These posts are from the 'Being an At-Home Dad' category.
Dad: Asher, why is Liam crying?
Asher: Because he said I couldn't catch him, but I took a short cut and I
caught him.
Dad: Did you hurt him?
Asher: Uhm... not much.
Dad: Sigh.
Sam: Asher, you need to put your pants on.
Asher: No, my rule is I don't have to wear pants in the afternoon.
I should have a whole category of posts about silly things I have to tell our kids not to do. When my parents were with us in California they said they'd like a recording of all of my interventions from the day. This followed me telling Asher, "Asher, do not spit in the tea pot!"
Today's interventions:
Liam, Do not use Asher's Pooh to clean your bottom."
Tracy was called out early this morning and late this evening leaving me some intense times of getting four kids fed, dressed and ready for bed.
I tend to forget how hard I worked at something after I complete it, my degrees for instance. I will likely not remember how much of my life and soul I have poured into raising my kids. They will not know either, until they raise kids of their own.
I don't have a brother. Katie and I played quite a lot, when we weren't fighting or trying to assert who was older.
Asher and Liam, though, are fast friends. They are serious playmates. There is lots of giddy rioutous fun in the house when they are together. They are two years apart, which I might have guessed would limit their enjoyment of each other. If I leave them together, there will of course be some fighting over who gets to hold a toy. More of the time, though, they are laughing hysterically as they run around the house shouting, "Blast Off!" or for some reason that escapes me but is apparently perfectly logical to preschoolers, "Lingo!" Liam looks a little sullen in the morning until Asher wakes up. He will sometimes try to be loud down stairs to force him to come down stairs. At the Living History Farms today, the younger three stayed in the triple stroller while Asher walked. I let Indy and Liam out at the end because we had time to run, and Asher and Liam were off like a shot running from tree to tree laughing hysterically about something again indecipherable to me.
It is a joy to see the my kids so enamored with each other's attention and play. They try to include Indy too, some of the time, but it is clear that she is interested in other things, and her language and running ability usually leaves her behind in the games. She prefers to come to me and tell me about the stickers she has found, or the drink she has concocted in the kitchen and is carrying in the fire extinguisher with captain hook's hook for a straw.
The point of the post is this, I wanted to remember how much fun Asher and Liam have as two and four year olds. They are fast companions and playmates. They have great fun together, and that is a joy for a parent to see.
Today I walked in the church nursery with Miles in the Bjorn. One of the attendants said, I don't know how you do it. Liam and Asher were boisterously playing with a teeter-totter like toy on the verge of hurting each other and laughing rompously. Little moments like these from outside observers help grasp that there is a reason my life feels stressful.
We are packing up the family to head out to my graduation in Pasadena. Flying with the family is definitely running the gantlet. We keep surviving it, but It makes me anxious.
3:30am - Haven't gotten any sleep yet. Liam will be awake in 2 1/2 hours. This is going to be brutal.
5:30am - Got to sleep from 4am to 5:15am.
6:15am - Liam's awake and the day begins.
Sleep deprivation affects me dramatically. Tracy can function remarkably well with two hours of sleep when she is on call. In contrast, when I am sleep deprived I can't perform simple tasks. I got up this morning and tried to focus my attention on drinking the cold coffee I made yesterday so I could turn on my brain. It took me about 10 minutes to find a cup, mix in the cream and equal and start to drink it. In my defense I was simultaneously working on the heroic task of making toast for Asher.
When Tracy came downstairs from her shower I had successfully cajoled Asher into putting most of his clothes on (he wouldn't put his shoes on because he didn't want to stop wearing his fire boots) and I was finishing up Indy's clothes.
Tracy asked, "Have you fed Indy?"
Me, "[mumble mumble] uh... no."
Tracy walks up to the sink and holds up the empty formula container, "Did you throw it out?"
"No," I said, puzzled. I sat frowning at Indy for a few seconds. I must have fed you. A murky image of sitting at the table with her G-Tube comes to my mind. Was that today, I wondered, baffled?
After another hour of being awake I can now fairly clearly recall feeding Indy. Some mornings I feel as if I've had a stroke, as if really helpful portions of my brain are completely unavailable to me. Coffee, apparently, is capable of kicking these areas back online. Useful. Creepy, but useful.
